Here Comes Your Man
by Dajypop
Summary: A collection of little one-shots, drabbles, and possible two-shots for several pairings that I like, mainly Desmond/Shaun, Altair/Malik, and Ezio/Leonardo. Rating encompasses EVERYTHING, but there are all ratings here. First completed AC stories, but not first time writing characters. Updated: 1/27/13 Chapters Uploaded: 2
1. The Existential Equivalent of Pink Eye

**AN: So... I was reading another collection of Des/Shaun, Ezio/Leo, and Alt/Mal stories... When I wanted to write my own. I don't know where these are coming from, but I'm in a HUGE Assassin's Creed mood, so we'll see what happens, I suppose. O3o Let's see how many I can belt through before I'm too tired/dead/whatever to think anymore. I'm going to try for three, at least.**

**Have some Des/Shaun, first!**

"Desmond, do you not know the meaning of a shower, or a fresh sweatshirt, at least?" Shaun began as he walked into the room, his tone biting, but eyes soft. It caught the young Assassin a little off-guard as he turned to see the expression on that handso- That stupid British jerk-face. Yeah, that was what he thought about Shaun, that was _right_.

"Shaun, do you not know the meaning of-" Every fiber of his being had been fully intent on coming up with the best insult for Shaun the researcher had ever heard. The only problem was, even while his mind reeled trying to think of something before, during, and after those words left his mouth... He hadn't come up with anything. Finally he felt an awkward, dark scarlet appear over his cheeks when a red eyebrow crooked at him and he breathed in expectantly. "Y-your mom."

_Way to go, idiot._

Shaun's self-satisfied smirk further embarrassed Desmond, who fumbled for more words before finally shoving his hands into his pockets and grumbling something unintelligible.

_Stupid Shaun and his stupid good comebacks, and stupid sexy nerd glasses, and... Wait, Des, what was that last part? No! He's stupid, and mean, and snarky, and... You **can't** possibly like him._

But, even as he seemed to argue with himself in his own mind, Desmond was losing the battle as he absently registered the soft clink of a tea cup being set on the counter. He seemed to forget why he was protesting when he realized the elder male had slunk into his personal space; and suddenly thoughts were a thing of the past and all he could focus on was the soft, silky feel of those lips as they met his own. Even the slight bit of saliva and lip balm that dampened their kiss didn't seem to bother him.

That was, until it was gone. Blinking useless eyes until the world came back into focus, Desmond barely registered that Shaun had already pushed past him, rather bodily, and left the room.

Smug smirk in place as he walked away from the small kitchen they had in the warehouse, Shaun Hastings had never looked so pleased with himself. And, that was saying a lot, considering Rebecca had seen a lot of times when Shaun was pretty full of himself for one reason or another. Blinking, she decided to see what the fuss was over.

"Shaun-" She barely managed before he placed a finger to his lips and shushed her.

"Desmond seems to have a fetish for British men who can outsmart him." The ginger began, "His best retort to my simply asking if he had ever heard of a shower or change of clothes was, amazingly enough, 'your mom'." As the Brit sipped his tea and Becca's eyes widened, he offered an even more evil smirk. _Shaun, one. Desmond, zero. Rebecca, negative three._

**AN: I really have no idea where these are coming from, but I have some ideas right now, so let the drabbles/ficlets begin! **

**Up next? AltMal!**


	2. Pick The Scab Until It Bleeds

**AN: The second installment, perhaps written the same hour as the first. O3o; These are beta'd by the lovely Bridge~**

"Altair, for Allah's sake if you keep picking at it it's going to get even _more_ infected," Malik groused for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. It would have been more, Altair mused, had the elder trainee not been so focused on trying to keep the fire going through the wind that whistled through the cave mouth where they rest. Traveling to a far-off city over the desert had seemed simple enough; Hell, it was a _reconnaissance_ mission! How could two almost-inducted Assassins even mess this up?

Well, it had started with getting lost in the desert, thanks to Altair "I will never relent and let Malik, who knows where we are going, tell me that we've been going in circles for six hours because I'm too proud to let someone else lead" Ibn La-Ahad and his shitty sense of direction. The second thing had caught them both a bit by surprise.

Altair's horse, aptly named Shadow by an eight-year-old Altair what seemed like so many years ago, had suffered at the hands of a sand dune too steep, and had rolled on top of him, the two seeming to snowball down the dune with Malik watching from atop it. Honestly, the elder Assassin had almost forgotten to breathe, blink, or think. All that was going through his head was the disgruntled, frightened sounds of the horse, and Altair's choked cries as he was buried in sand beneath a heavy, writhing body. In seconds, before he even thought on it, Malik was off his own horse and skidding down the mound of loose sand, trying to aid the horse off of his dear friend.

When he caught sight of the white fabric beneath the hot, golden drops, he grabbed the nearest fistful and hauled Altair from the wreckage. Only to find his hand bunched in the fabric near the other's hips, which he swiftly let go of and stared at his hand, wide-eyed. With a few short breaths to steady himself, he focused on helping the younger male roll onto his stomach and hack up the sand that had invaded his mouth, throat, and lungs. Once he felt better, the Arabic male began his routine checkup to make sure that the other had only earned bruises and nothing too bad to worry about.

The need for the cave became clear when the two looked down and saw that there were several gashes around the other's face; one over his eyebrow, and across his cheek. Aside from that, there had been a startling amount of blood soaking through the chest piece of his cloak. Never in his life had Malik Al-Sayf ever known horror true enough to say that he had felt his heart in his throat, beating in his ears and blocking out all other sound with a distinct ringing. Not until that moment.

And, to top it all off, it seemed that they were going to be stuck in a sandstorm if they didn't find shelter soon enough. Thankfully, Altair's ability to see a way to escape when need be no matter the situation seemed to come in handy, for once, and the cave had been found.

It was little more than a shallow alcove hidden by heavy, dense limestone hunks of rock, but it did well enough to keep them safe and warm, even the horses managing to fit inside with them. They set up camp there, waiting for the desert to calm itself.

Altair's clothes had been sacrificed for bandages, and the Assassin-to-be now sat in nothing but his breeches, the strap of his sword's scabbard, and his boots, the rest of them wrapped around his head or torso. It turned out the cut on his chest had been far more shallow than the amount of blood Malik had seen had made him think, and he once more remembered how to breathe.

The only thing that now bothered the elder male was the simple fact that, even if he had to peel back the white cloth, that damn, insufferable spit of a person kept _picking_ at the barely-forming scabs. Did he just _love_ to bleed to death in the desert and earn himself a rotten, infected body?

"_Altair_, if you peel that scab off _one more time_..." Malik finally warned, tone dangerous. Of course, who was Altair if he didn't laugh in the face of danger?

With a deep, challenging chuckle the lighter-haired teen smirked before pulling the bandage away from his face and making sure Malik saw the fragmented removal of the fresh scab over his cheek. The way the other's eye twitched in anger was enough to leave him preening.

"_Altair_," The warning was even more clear, this time, though no further utterance need be present. And, of course, aforementioned young man _knew_ what he was getting into. There had been more than one time when he'd had to funnel Malik's misplaced rage into something more pleasant, the other's pet peeves and secret, disgruntled thoughts always filed away for later use. After all, there was something about finding themselves tangled in limbs, spitting blood and clashing teeth, lips, and tongue together after a heated argument that seemed so _right_.

"Malik, I don't know _what_ you could be implying." Digging his fingers into his wound a bit, he pulled back bloodied fingertips, and that was all Malik could handle.

Diving across the fire they had made and pinning that infuriating novice to the hard floor of the cave by his hips, the elder male nearly snarled at him, "I swear to Allah, one of these days, if you aren't the death of you, you'll be the death of _me_." But, of course, that didn't stop their lips from meeting in a passionate way, even as Malik's hand moved to bury itself in the hair at the nape of Altair's neck, deepening the kiss. An upward buck of his hips, and the pair knew what they would be doing in less than a minute with the heat of the cave only feeding their fire.

This much could be said for the young men; while they were poison to one another, there was always a level of care and caution only lovers would put into festivities so rough. The way Malik took more care when nibbling at the more sensitive creases of Altair's belly, or the fact that the bruising grip on Malik's hips as his own piston forward was soothed, once their mad dash for pleasure was fruitful, with kisses and licks and mumbled, forgotten apologies.

Even as Altair collapsed beside Malik, the push-and-pull of their relationship and the hardships of the day wearing them both thin enough for an early night's sleep, he yanked the other close across the scratchy floor. When he heard the telltale, soft snore that signaled the Arab had fallen into sleep, only then did he lean in and admit, "I love you, Malik."

While he received little more than a grunt in response, he knew there had to be more to them than this. Happily dreaming of a returned whisper containing his own name, Altair slid into a peaceful sleep; one he could only achieve when Malik lay nestled in his arms.

**AN: Wow... That ended up a bit more than I had thought it would. XD Hopefully, it's okay. 8D**

**Next up is some Ezio/Leo, I think I have a good idea. o3o**


	3. Alive with the Glory of Love

**AN: So, there is obvious inspiration here... But I feel the need to add that this is an AU. I just thought this would be an interesting idea to play with, so we'll see what happens. 8D**

"A little to the left..." Leonardo spoke distractedly, directing the prone body before him with the wooden point of his paintbrush. Stepping back to admire the new position, he tilted his head just _slightly_ to the right before making a sudden 'Hm!' noise.

"No, how about..." Reaching up to put the paintbrush between his teeth, he grabbed for two strong arms and lifted them at an angle to one another, evening out defined shoulders and giving a breathtaking view of a powerful chest. "Ooh! Perfect! Do _not_ move!" The artist chimed, rushing to his sketchpad and staring intently for all of a few seconds before the pencil began to move, seemingly on its own. Before Ezio's very eyes, his portrait appeared slowly, in parts, and yet it didn't feel like he was standing there for very long. Maybe he was too used to being admired while naked.. He'd take that into consideration later.

"Ezi-" Leonardo had begun, before looking up. The way those eyes narrowed into an indifferent stare at the wall while Ezio focused his talented body on not moving a muscle... It sent a chill of desire over his elder friend's body, and he had to adjust himself a bit before he continued, "Please, _amico mio_," He began, "Turn slightly... I would rather enjoy a comfortable position... You should do me the favor of finding a relaxed pose that comes easy to you." He said rather distractedly, even gesturing to the rather fancy loveseat that lay strewn with fabric in the messy basement lair that the artist inhabited.

The younger male seemed to think for a moment before dropping onto it, one leg over the back and the other hanging off, foot solid on the floor. However, before Leonardo could bother to begin the sketch, one hand moved down, tracing an abruptly protruding hip bone, before circling a rather quickly growing erection. A swift pump up, down, up, down.. The artist stared in rapt fascination as his friend and, admittedly, secret crush began to harden, stealing his breath and forming a brick in his throat.

"Is this pleasing, _Amico mio_?" The way that Leonardo dumbly nodded in response was enough to make Ezio smirk slightly, and there was hardly another thought in the blonde's head past _I bet his lips are as perfect as his body_...

"Leonardo...?" It didn't occur to the artist that he'd gotten up from his spot, abandoned his art supplies in a crumpled heap of paper, cardboard, and charcoal, and had crossed the room to crawl onto the loveseat between the other's legs.

"Shh..." The elder male whispered, leaning in and capturing those scarred lips, finding that the silky feeling was enough to make him happy, and the added perfection he realized they had when the fit of their lips and bodies was so streamline... His heart could have exploded from joy, and his ghost would float to Heaven happily knowing that there was, indeed, a God who listened to gay artists.

"Calm, Leo..." Ezio whispered gently, carding a hand through the wavy blonde locks, "All in due time, _si_?" The excitement that bubbled through him made the elder leap once more at his friend's face; he finally understood!

**AN: There may or may not be a direct sequel to this puppy soon... We shall see. o3o I will have to say, though, up next is another AltMal~!**


	4. I Never Say Quite What I Mean

**AN: Wanted some more AltMal, and the ideas are running rampant in my mind... So, here we go, I guess. One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready... Four to GO, GO, GO!**

When he really put thought into it, Malik realized there was no real reason for him to love Altair. The man was the reason for so many of his problems; his career as an assassin was over due to the loss of his arm, and the loss of his brother had left him a puddle of angry vengeance. And it had all happened because of that damned man's damn ignorant pride.

And, yet, when he stared at Altair, curled up against those pillows and hugging one, absently kissing it in his sleep... He couldn't help but think of all the times that that pillow had been himself.

As much as the great, almighty, unstoppable Phoenix that was Altair Ibn La-Ahad would never, ever, _ever_ dare to admit it, he was extremely cuddly when he slept. He'd kissed Malik for the first time one night while on a mission with a senior Assassin, one of their first together. They'd cuddled under the sanctity of the thick grove of trees, and the pair didn't even need speak a word about it. Partially because if Altair hadn't been awake for it, as far as Malik was concerned, he needn't be bothered with it.

Even now, it seemed the man knew he was being watched, and exactly who was watching him. Dismally, Malik recounted every time he'd let the younger male cuddle with him. He then realized, with a bit more of a sigh, that he was the _only_ one who had ever been cuddled by His Almighty Master Assassin-ness. With a roll of his eyes, the darker haired male gave in with a sigh. After all, a little nap wouldn't hurt him, and he'd be back to work before anyone else arrived in the bureau. Climbing up the best he could to close the top of their hideout so nobody would find them, he soon slid into the comfort of the pillows that lay in the light from the sun, and found himself immediately tugged against the other assassin.

With a soft grumble, a gentle smile, and an even softer whisper of, "I love you, Altair...", Malik fell asleep in the only place he had ever felt at home; Altair's arms. Not that he would ever admit that to any other living soul, of course.

**AN: More Malik-centric than I thought it would be, but I'm kind of just letting things happen as they come out. =w=; I hope these keep coming, I'm wanting to at least even out how many times I've written each pairing...**


	5. You and Me VS Tacky TV

**AN: Woah, five updates in a short time, already! I'd still like to thank my beta, Bridge~ And the fact that I got her into AC using these drabbles, and pictures of the various pairs. ;D Mancandy saves the day and earns us another AC junky, woo! **

**Anyway, have some more Desmond/Shaun, all for the halibut.**

They weren't doing anything but wasting each other's time, Desmond had come to realize one day. He was sure Shaun was aware of it, as well, but the pair didn't seem ready to give up whatever it was that they had. Their relationship had taken a dive, lately, to where they spent most of their time back-to-chest in Shaun's lofty Hotel Suite Apartment, or slumped over on Desmond's ratty couch watching reruns of Jerry Springer and Judge Mathis through all hours of the day, night, and early morning. They would sit in silence, the both of them as engrossed in the tacky daytime television as they would be watching paint dry.

But, other than the moments of weakness and emotion that happened when they writhed together, bodies doing the talking and all they cared about was reaching that peak, with or without the other, they didn't have anything. Sure, they would generally act concerned after, and feign the want for their partner to enjoy their time together, too... But everything else had become so push-and-pull lately that the two felt obligated to see each other every day just because they were dating. It was almost as if they only stayed together for the sake of self preservation. What if no one else would have them?

**AN: So... it's short. But I like this. O3o So... Maybe another time, I will continue this. Who knows...**


	6. I Will Hide You If It Gets To Be Too Muc

**AN: Feeling a little blue so I thought I would write some fluffy angst for Ezio and Leonardo... Maybe it will make me feel better, who knows... Chest feels kind of tight... **

Ezio never knew pain like this before. His right leg didn't seem to want to move, and each roof he had to jump across was stained with a trail of his blood. Twice, now, since his last leap, he had fallen and crawled forward a few steps. As usual, his goal was a certain Artist's workshop, though he was afraid that this would be the time he wouldn't make it. The world was starting to grow fuzz around the edges like moldy bread, and each time he blinked, he found it ten times harder to open his eyes again. The world would blur for a moment before he forced himself to focus on a spot a few feet ahead, and then he managed to make it there. It seemed his only way of making it to his only sanctuary in the world was to set smaller goal markers, make it there, and pump himself up some more before continuing.

Each rooftop seemed like a blessing and a curse all at once, for each time he leaped to the next he thought it would be the death of him. When he finally slid down the wall, leaving it smeared in blood, that lay across from the door to Leonardo's workshop, he breathed a sigh of relief. Unable to pull his hood down, he simply rapped on the door before collapsing into it and laying for several short moments in a growing puddle of his own blood. When Leonardo answered the door, the sight before him made his heart slam into his feet, and his brain shut off. Moving purely on instinct, he gently hauled Ezio's body against himself and made his way to his own bedroom, not caring for his sheets as he began to strip the Assassin, trying to locate all of the wounds.

Four arrows in his back and ribs, a long cut over his right knee, what looked like a barely-miscalculated gash just to the side of his heart, and just above his lung; from what Leonardo could tell, Ezio was lucky to have made it here before he passed out and died on some rooftop, or worse... In the middle of a field, or bridge, or random town away from his loved one.

These thoughts buzzed in his head as he carefully took care of the various wounds, treating them with salves and balms and, finally, bandages. It took two days for Ezio to recover enough strength to wake up, and when he did, the sight that greeted his newly opened eyes tugged his stiff lips up into a sweet smile.

Leonardo's head and shoulders rest on the bedside, next to his lover's hand. He was dead asleep, cheek pressed to the fabric of the sheets, one arm on the bed with a hand gently curled into the pillow beside the younger male's face. It looked like he was exhausted, and with how soft calls of his name didn't wake him, the young Auditore was sure that the blonde must not have gotten much sleep over the past few days, likely worrying over how he'd arrived at his home. With a soft blush working over his cheeks, body too weak to muster much more than the pitiful excuse for one, the nineteen year old shifted a little and attempted to pull his elder onto the bed with him. However, he didn't seem to realize how much this simple action would strain him, and with his cry of pain, blue eyes snapped open and the artist stood so quickly he knocked back his simple wooden chair until it clattered to the floor.

"Ezio! _Mio dio, ho pensato che è morto!_" The words burst forth before he had a chance to think of them, and he shuddered at the thought of what those words implied. However, when he realized that the other was, in fact, awake, he yanked him into an overwhelmingly comforting hug. Well, comforting save for the fact that his chest seized up in pain.

"Ah, _amico mio_, I... N-need to breathe..." Ezio rasped, only to have the blonde nearly leap back as though he'd been burned.

"I... I apologize!" He said worriedly, eyes widening before the other male simply chuckled a little and pat the bed.

"Please, _mio amore_," The brunette began, "Lay with me... It seems as though I haven't felt the comfort of your touch since the beginning of time..." The smile on his face made Leonardo's eyes fill with tears that didn't seem ready to fall, and the elder male slowly crawled onto the bed with his lover, so thankful that life had been breathed back into him.

"_Ti amo_," Leonardo whispered, "You are very dear to me... The thought of losing you nearly made my heart give out... I'm getting too old for this..."

"_Ti amo, anche, _Leonardo..." Ezio returned gently, welcoming the other to lay on his right side, spooning against him gently, "And you are merely twenty-six, _mio amore_, you haven't reached 'old', yet." With soft chuckles on both warm lips, the two shared a gentle kiss, before the sheer waves of exhaustion and joy overwhelmed the eldest of the two. A soft snore left him as he closed his eyes, only for a _second_, and Ezio was content enough to simply lay there and pet the other's silky hair, taking comfort in his soft breath and the warmth of his body.

It was times like these when he truly felt at home. He knew that, no matter what happened, Leonardo would always be there for him.

**AN: So... Finished this after about an hour of (distracted) working on it... I'm rather proud of it. 8D**

**Translations:**

**_Mio dio, ho pensato che è morto! _- My God, I thought you died!**

_**Amico Mio**_**– My Friend**

_**Mio amore**_** – My love**

_**Ti amo**_** – I love you**

_**Ti amo, anche**_** – I love you, too/b**


	7. Because I'm Awesome

**AN: So, I wanted to make yet another little ficlet/drabble for my series, and hope that everyone is liking them alright. XD I'm still really excited for them, and I think maybe I'll get up enough courage from these to actually write a fic. O3o Oh my GOSH, what? Daisy will write a fic? There's something up here, people...**

**At any rate, I'd love comments and faves. ^^ Also, I'm going to warn that there IS the use of the word 'awesome' in early Syria in this fic. Please, no flames for that. XD;**

"I still don't believe it, Shadow..." Altair gruffed softly as he ran the coarse brush over his stallion's body, the horse's muscles quivering with excitement at being groomed, "He denied me. _Again_..." It seemed to grow on his nerves so much that he brushed, perhaps, a bit too hard, making the horse whinny at him and shake his large head, shuffling a little on his hooves. "Oh... Sorry..." The male muttered distractedly, looking to the other grooming tools he was afforded and deciding that, perhaps, his horse would enjoy a bath more than anything. But, at the same time, Shadow could always do it himself... What he couldn't do, however, was wreak some havoc without Altair on his back.

A wicked grin spread over his face as he looked the horse in the eye. They seemed to share a spark of understanding before he decided to saddle up the dark horse, and the two rode off to the outskirts of Masayf. Trotting uselessly slow so that they didn't get in trouble, Altair couldn't help but think of how much fun it would be to run at a full sprint; they didn't get to do it often, but his horse always loved it. However, just because they were having fun, that didn't exempt either of them from thinking about ways to get back at Malik.

"He's so stubborn," Altair began, though it wasn't like he really had any room to talk, "He constantly tells me that what we do is wrong, that he doesn't _want_ me, but how could he _not_? I could get any woman in the world that I want, and he thinks that just because I want him means he can snub me?" The horse seemed to agree with a shake of his head and a knicker left him, his trotting growing slightly uneven as he strained to run with his master's direction. "Heh, I know, big guy... You wanna charge, huh?" Leaning down to hug against the horse's powerful neck, he kissed the soft hair of his mane before leaning back and cracking the reins with a sharp 'hyah!'

With that, the pair began at a gallop, then moved into a full-on sprint. The guards that guarded the roads, however, were never very happy when the pair did this, chasing them and screaming 'Assassin!' However, it didn't do much for them; a horse could run _much_ faster than a human. The thought of logic, however, didn't seem to occur to them as they continued to try, alerting all they could.

Perking up a bit more as they finally slowed to a pleasant, lazy trot, Altair and Shadow alike seemed to feel much better.

"Malik's an idiot," The brunet grinned, "He can't see how awesome I am. You think I'm awesome, don't you, Shadow?" With a grin, he relished in the affirmative noise his horse gave, as the two began to turn around and Altair leaned forward to whisper into the animal's ear. "Should we run back as fast as we can?" With the excited knicker he got in return, it was clear the answer was 'yes'. "Ah, my little trouble maker." He laughed a little, before the pair charged forward, back to Masayf.

The guards were going to have a heyday with the Master, that much was for sure.

**AN: So... Don't ask. XD I was inspired by a song that makes me think of Altair. It's called Because I'm Awesome and it's by The Dollyrots. I found it a couple years back, and I finally have it, and... Well, it makes me think of him. Give it a listen, maybe~**

**I think up next I'll do another Ezio/Leo... I'm on a bit of a kick for writing them, for some reason. O3o;**


	8. You Make Me Feel Like Someone Else

**AN: So, I was going through Allahdammit's gallery on DA and found the College Castes folder. As you can probably expect, I went a little crazy favoriting and everything, and then decided to do something for Ezio/Leo based on that, because I like the idea of Ezio being all awkward because he wants his art teacher x3. It was too cute.**

**So, please, have fun with this one!**

Maybe it was the fact that his feelings were fairly taboo... Maybe it was the fact that the apple of his eye wasn't exactly akin to the others he'd been with... Maybe it was the simple fact that the Italian artist's mood and ways were so _infectious_... He didn't know, and he wasn't sure he ever would. All Ezio Auditore knew was that he wanted his Art History teacher more tan anything in this world, and he wanted to let the man know. Yes, that was right. _Man_. The notorious Italian Stallion had fallen head over heels for a _man_.

It was an odd state of affairs for him, to be busy with his hand working over his erection in the shower, hunched forward with the other arm bracing him on the wall, only to moan out a strangled '_Ahh! Leo!_'

He'd earned more than a few odd looks from his roommates, that much was certain.

"_If you like him so much, go for it. You are one of the most awkwardly sexual people I know." Desmond had said, "After all, you could probably get him to go to bed with you, at least. I've heard rumors."_

"_Yeah, rumors..." Altair had spoken over his laptop, bent over it and obviously focusing rather hard on something. _

"_...Altair, are you staring at Malik's facebook again?" Desmond had grinned so wide the Cheshire Cat would have been jealous. _

"_No!" The defensive tone in his voice coupled with the immediate slam of the lid of his laptop was enough evidence to the contrary. _

With a sigh, Ezio made his way into the empty classroom; well, empty save for two people. What he saw made his jaw drop and almost forced him to call out in anger.

Leonardo's head was at another person's hip level as he was talking quietly to them, adjusting their legs before moving back up and fussing over hair and arm placement. It looked rather bad, from where Ezio stood, and the male almost stormed off. Until he heard that he had been caught.

"Oh! Ezio, would you come here a moment?" The giddy, happy voice of the elder Italian made him stop in his tracks and turn with a smile, despite himself. Making his way over with a small noise of affirmation, he was shocked to find that the thin, lithe form that Leonardo had been messing with was _not_, in fact, an attractive woman, but a nude, rather pretty _man_. No wonder why Desmond that thought Leonardo would go for him...

"Ezio?" Leonardo's voice broke through his stupor and he shook his head, nodding a little to show he was listening, "Would you aid me a moment? I was thinking of perhaps painting this young man today... He's rather proportionate, isn't he?" He seemed to ponder his remark a moment before a light blush worked over his cheeks.

"Uh..." Looking over the other male, Ezio realized why he had taken Art History instead of an actual art class for his Fine Arts credit. He had no idea what he was looking for when it came to a 'proportionate' person. "Sure?"

With a chuckle, Leonardo nodded, "Well, you see... I was hoping that, after I finish painting Alexis, here... Perhaps you could model for me someday? Your face is very handsome, and deserves to be portrayed by paint, if you ask me." With that same smile of his that Ezio tended to think of in his spare time, the blonde looked at the pair standing side by side before he started a bit. "Oh, oh, _mio dio_!" He cried, "Ezio, would you aid me right now? I could paint this beautifully..."

"We-well, uh-" Before Ezio could truly answer him, the artist was posing the two of them together; Alexis in the younger Italian's arms, nude as the day he was born, with the taller, broader male still clothed behind him. They were then forced to stay like this for the next few hours, with several short breaks in between.

Each time they took a break, Leonardo would pour over his new piece, and, soon enough, Ezio crossed the room to see how it looked.

And it was gorgeous.

The way that they were both painted in oils on the canvas was something only a master could produce, he was sure, and when he made mention of it, Leonardo blushed a little.

"I only tried to capture the essence of the moment," He told the other simply enough, "The beauty of the two of you together... I just never realized how good you would look with another man in your arms..." However, the lofty way he said this accompanied with the dreamy way that he spoke made Ezio gulp a little and look at the elder male. With a soft blush on his cheeks, knowing that Alexis was out of the room for a bathroom break, Ezio leaned in and slowly kissed his teacher's lips, their mouths working together carefully. The two of them soon were standing, holding tight to one another, not ready to pull away until they heard someone clear their throat in the doorway of the room.

Pulling away with a blush, both males coughed slightly. Alexis simply smirked, "Should we continue this another time, Leo? I can see you are a bit busy..."

"Ah... Perhaps. My apologies..." Alexis hummed as he dressed and set about heading home, leaving the two Italians to their work.

**AN: Alright, wow... So, yes. That happened. 8D I had a few different ideas for this one, but my computer ate the first one, so this one happened. 8D Woo! I like it, though... I hope you guys do, too! (all two of you who read these. xD)**


	9. You Never Liked That Necklace

**AN: Hey, all! This is yet another one from me. O3o Oh, wow, I write a lot of these. I'm thinking of getting to Twelve before working on my first ACTUAL REAL fic, which is going to be a request for a friend. ^^ I hope you guys like these, though, I'm really excited about them.**

**Here's another Des/Shaun for you, though~ Inspired by "Don't Ask Me" by OK Go. You can think of this as the follow-up story to You And Me VS Tacky TV.**

"Shaun," Desmond started stiffly, looking away from his impeccably dressed ex. The man in question simply smirked and offered a hand to he other to shake.

"Desmond, it's _truly_ been too long." Though his voice was sickeningly sweet, it was obvious he was ready to rip Desmond's heart out and give it to the man currently attached to his back pocket. "I'm assuming you've met Augusten," He added, smiling to the man who seemed so happy to do the same in return.

"Yeah, yeah, I met 'im..." Desmond responded dryly, looking away. _Stupid Shaun and his stupid new boyfriend._ The touch of their hands, however, sparked a sudden surge of emotion in Desmond, and he blinked a little, looking up at the other a bit more carefully. Then, he noticed something that he never thought he'd see again...

"I thought you always hated that necklace." He chimed before he had a chance to stop himself. Shaun looked down to the thin chain around his neck, a silver charm hanging from it with one side lined with cubic zirconium that Desmond had bought him. With a soft smile, he realized he really _had_ worn it to this little get together, and shrugged.

"I thought I did, too." He mumbled, before laughing a little and moving towards the restaurant's door, "We should go ahead and go inside before we lose the reservation." He added simply, a soft laugh leaving him in a way that made Desmond's heart thud in his chest. Augusten looked between them for a moment before following Shaun inside, and the third party made his way in after.

Once they were seated, Desmond looked over the menu, realizing that he probably couldn't afford _anything_ on here; not even a soda! Why the hell had Shaun insisted on this place? _Probably to show off all of his money_, the bartender mused with a soft sigh, shaking his head. The waitress appeared soon enough.

"Good afternoon," She began, "My name is Teagan, and I will be your waitress today. What could I get you gentleman to drink?" That smile on her lips made Desmond's stomach churn; she seemed just as sickly sweet as Shaun when he was rubbing something in his face. What, was it his ripped jeans? The hoodie he wore? Sure, he didn't look like a million bucks, but he had a good heart...

"I'll take an iced tea." Shaun told her, simply, "With lemon, please."

"Dr. Pepper," Augusten replied easily. All eyes turned on Desmond.

"Uh..." He started, glancing around before sighing, "I'll take some water..."

"Des," Shaun cooed softly, "I'm paying. Go ahead and get what you want."

A little angered at this, Desmond glanced at the menu and found the most expensive drink there. Thankfully, he knew coffee.

"I'll take the dark chocolate raspberry cappuccino, extra chocolate. And whipped cream." Teagan smiled a little curtly before nodding and telling them a simple 'it will be right out.'

"So, Desmond," This was Augusten talking, "I heard you and Shaun used to date... He says you were a bartender at the time... Are you still doing that?"

Gritting his teeth, Desmond nodded, "Yeah. Instead of doing what I don't want to do for the paycheck, I decided to do what I love even if it's hard."

"I can see that." Augusten's tone made the bartender want to leap over the fancy table and choke him half to death. Or, maybe, all the way to death...

Shaun seemed to sense this and reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on one of Desmond's fists; he hadn't realized he'd been holding the tablecloth so tight. Slowly loosening his grip, he offered a soft smile to Shaun... One that seemed to make the other male look away with a soft blush. Seeming to realize that the two were having a moment, Augusten looped his arm around Shaun's shoulders and tugged him close. He was saying something about how they were going to the Swiss Alps to ski for the summer, and Shaun was absently agreeing that it would be too cold this year.

"Too cold?" Augusten whispered, leaning into Shaun's ear; the redhead had to fight not to moan. Desmond knew that trick, too, and it heated his cheeks a little.

"H-hey, guys, uh... Drinks are here." Desmond smiled happily, glad that they had come so that he could focus on his rather large cup of coffee.

He realized, maybe a bit too late, that sitting across from Shaun was a rather bad idea for him. The man tended to shift his legs a lot when he sat, and occasionally he'd feel the toe of an all-natural leather shoe brushing against his calf. The way that the professor's lips closed around the straw of his drink made him gulp slightly, and he watched as the other's Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed his drink. Gulping a bit, he shifted slightly in his seat, trying to focus on his hot drink, though each time he took a sip it burned him. Sighing, he looked down, before jumping slightly.

There was no way that hadn't been intentional.

Shaun's foot graced his inner _thigh_, and the man threw him a pointed look. It seemed they were both having a hard time with this luncheon...

Excusing himself from the table, the Brit made his way for the bathrooms. He purposefully took too long, leading Desmond to rise.

"I, uh... I'm gonna go check on Shaun." He seemed nervous, but quickly made his way through the restaurant (being told not to run more than twice by waiters and waitresses alike), before finally making it to the bathroom. To which, he got an interesting sight.

Shaun, leaning against the sinks, fiddling with the watch on his wrist, as if waiting for something. However, as soon as he saw Desmond, his eyes sparked and he crossed the room with the gait of a desperate man. Finally coming close to him, he nearly crashed their lips together, arms wrapping around the darker skinned male's neck. Pulling him close, his leg hitched up over the other's hip and he groaned a bit, wanting to be as close as possible. So much for making _Desmond_ jealous enough to beg for him back, he supposed. Not that he knew that the other was just as ready for him.

Then again, he figured it out pretty quickly, considering the fact that there was _quite_ the hard lump in Desmond's ratty jeans, and, honestly, it didn't bother him too much. Breath stolen from his lungs, Shaun was sure that this was something he really missed; he didn't like that he and Desmond had broken up, because there was just so much between them that made so much _sense_. Even if the sex was a big thing with them... In the end, there was more to them than that. They'd thought they lost that spark, but after two months and seven days of being apart...

The pair realized that they were just _meant to be_.

With another soft moan muffled by Desmond's mouth, the stronger male hefted his ex up and pinned him to the wall near the door, grinding on him hard and making him cry out softly. The way the went at it, people would think they hadn't seen each other in forever. The pair rocked and ground for a bit before, finally, Shaun whimpered.

"D-des... _C'mon_... Y-ya'know we wan' 't..." Something that Desmond had always loved about Shaun was how thick his accent grew during times like this. With an obliging noise, the pair did the barest move of their clothes that they could before the _real_ fun began.

Once Shaun's pants were tugged down enough to get at his nice, tight rear, Desmond rather happily shoved two fingers in, remembering how much of a glutton his ex lover could be. With a rich moan of joy, Shaun greedily tried to pull those fingers in deeper, rocking his hips down while his younger partner groaned his own appreciation. Man, he was a greedy little bitch, but it was one of the reasons they got along so well in the bedroom. After all, Desmond had a _lot_ to give.

However, when he went so far as to try and shove a third finger, Shaun stopped him.

"Lube." He whimpered a little, "Two's fi', bu' ya 'ave bi' fingers..." _And an even bigger __**cock**__..._ He thought jovially, licking his lips. Glancing around, Desmond tried to find a decent thing to use; eyes falling on a dispenser of 'lotion soap'. Deciding that would work, he pulled his fingers out of the other, much to his dismay, and liberally applied the slick substance before turning around and liberally applying his fingers inside of Shaun's tight hole. With a pleased groan, he began to stretch him open rather nicely, the slightly wet sounds making Shaun shrink a bit. He was always embarrassed with his own bodily noises, even if Desmond loved every one of them. Leaning in for a gentle kiss, he nuzzled the other and made sure he knew it was okay before finally questioning him.

"Are you ready...?" With the simple, needy moan and nod he received, the younger male slowly pulled his hand back, leaving Shaun whining at the empty feeling. Soon, his erection nice and slick, he pressed the blunt head to the grasping little hole. And moaned excessively loud, head tipping back. He hadn't had sex in _months_, and Shaun had always been a favorite. After all, their friendship and everything else had always been formed around sex... So, why pick someone else when you had the best thing you could ask for right there?

Finally slipping inside, Desmond groaned and let is head thunk against the wall beside Shaun's, nibbling at his neck.

"Des, _n'marks_..." Oh, it was so cute when he did that! Even if he took the fun out of this... Being careful, he nibbled and nuzzled at the other's neck while the two of them tried so hard not to be loud, Desmond's hips starting slow before he was soon slamming the other into the wall. Shaun was thankful that the restrooms were, basically, fairly far away from the rest of the restaurant, seated near the front door and off to a corner, nobody seemed willing to bother them. With a muffled cry, Shaun's hips bucked up into Desmond's hand, which reached into his pants to help prevent his pants from getting too messy when he came.

It didn't take long for the destined lovers to reach their peak together, this first romp in a while taking so much precedence that their bodies needed it _now_. With a muffled groan into Desmond's shoulder, Shaun came hard between them, into Desmond's hand. Desmond, however, filled Shaun while trying to take a chunk of cloth and flesh from his shoulder, hips stuttering and Shaun's silken walls trying to milk him for all he was.

When the two panting males finally pulled away, they cleaned up as best they could before heading back to the table with a sigh of pleasure. They had been sure to spritz some of the fancy cologne that the bathroom offered before leaving so they didn't smell so much like one another. Finally, they sat down in their old spots with Augusten, smiling a little secretly. It was certain that once Augusten saw Shaun's shoulder, though, and the sloppy 'plug' they'd managed to use... Well, that he'd get the picture and be out of there.

"Ah, yes.." Shaun mumbled, "How was the salad, love?" He questioned distractedly, looking over at the other with still-hazy eyes. A sidelong glance at Desmond made him realize how smug the other looked, and he smirked. The other may as well have been the cat that caught the canary.

Augusten, a little disgusted by what he was certain had happened, stood and abandoned the table without so much as a word.

"I wonder how he plans on getting back to his home..." Shaun drawled finally, "I drove him here... And he doesn't have my keys." Desmond's grin only grew and he leaned over the table to kiss Shaun.

"Well, I hope you'll give me a ride home. I had to walk here."

"I'll give you a ride to _my_ home." Shaun offered in response, kissing him once more before patting the table beside him. "Come over here..."

_It's good to be back_, Desmond thought, _I can't believe how much I missed him..._

**AN: So, here is the yummy version, I hope you guys like it. ^^**


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